


Please, Please

by naznahl



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Anal Fingering, Non-Gendered Warrior of Light, Other, Size Difference, Spanking, The Bratty Bottom Behavior Displayed Here, Unnamed Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:32:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29735316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naznahl/pseuds/naznahl
Summary: You tease Raubahn, because you can, because it's fun, and because the way his gaze burns into you makes you fray a bit more at the seams every passing day he doesn't have his hand on you.
Relationships: Raubahn Aldynn/Reader, Raubahn Aldynn/Warrior of Light
Comments: 6
Kudos: 17





	Please, Please

You tease Raubahn, because you can, because it's fun, and because the way his gaze burns into you makes you fray a bit more at the seams every passing day he doesn't have his hand on you. 

But you don't like games you can't win, so you push him, with your words and your body. You tease out the syllables of his name until they sound like a moan, you roll your hips as you lean over a desk. It's all in good fun, and it's such an exhilarating thrill to be able to play like this. Finding new ways to exasperate him is almost enough to satisfy you on its own, but when you finally manage to get him to press you into a wall, it's such a relief you almost start to sob.

"What are you doing, Lieutenant?" he says, the whole of his mass looming over you as your heart beats into a staccato. He's not touching you - yet - but his arm is braced against the wall behind you so you feel the heat of him. Your gaze traces over his skin and the muscle of him. A flush blooms pleasantly in your face and you can't hold back a smile. 

"I was hoping to do my job, General," you snap back as you lean up into him, "You're the one who asked me to take these journals to the archive room." 

You'd dropped them, obviously, and so of course you'd had to bend down to pick them up. You couldn't control the fact that when you'd bent over, your ass had knocked against his thighs as he followed behind you. It was silly, but it was even sillier that it worked so well.

It's not a growl, really, that he gives you in response, but it's close enough you can feel a spike of desire course through you at the rumbling of his voice. 

"Why should I apologize for such a simple mistake?" you continue, your voice hitching in delight and disobedience, "And here I was so used to being spoiled by your kindness."

"Lest you continue your inane blather," he says, his voice deepening further as he presses his body closer to yours, "I am telling you that I acquiesce to you." 

"Oh."

"Not going to gloat in your victory?" he says, raising an eyebrow at your sudden quietness.

You don't tell him that you can't celebrate this win because he's knocked you off your advantage with his simple acceptance. You smile at him, all affection at his tired face and soft eyes. He's always been good at defeating you like this, always when you least expect him to. It's charming - in a way that tears your heart into pieces, but you enjoy it, you truly do - that he's so oblivious to his power over you. 

"Let no person say I am not a graceful victor," you say. You put your hands on either side of his face, pulling him down into a kiss. 

You love his mouth on yours, more careful than anything. He's gentle, even knowing who you are and how you are, all desperate desire to be pushed into breaking in everything you do. He's known you for so long and now you're aching to let him know you even more. So you let him kiss you like you're a fragile thing, and then you bite his lip before putting your tongue in his mouth. 

"Not here," he breathes into you, "come with me." 

* * *

"Strip," he commands. 

He sits on your bed with a groan, hand moving to remove the clasp of his cloak without taking his eyes off you. The thrill of desire threatens to overwhelm you, your lower belly sparking with need. You squeeze your thighs together, feeling the not-quite-enough pleasure in your body growing inside you. 

You don't listen to him because you don't want to, or rather because you do want to, but don't want to make it easy. Instead, you walk to him to put your hands on his shoulders. You kiss him, trying to get back the ragged gasps he'd given to you in the halls. You worry at his swollen lip where you'd bitten him, kissing him tenderly because all you want to do is bite him again. 

You gasp as his hand suddenly grips the back of your neck, possessive and holding, but not rough at all. Not yet, not yet, anyway, but you'll have your way. 

"Why do you play the fool so?" he asks, pulling you away from his face. 

"Because it makes you hold me like this," you grin, straining against his greater strength with just the flex of your neck. His hold tightens to keep you in place. 

His eyes are pools of water, and the way he looks at you already steals the air from your lungs, it wouldn't take long at all for you to drown in him. You feel so removed from rationality, all the heat and hardness of his hand driving you into a mania of need. If his hand is so hot, you have no idea how hot his cock is going to be once you get your mouth on him. 

"Raubahn, please," you beg, breathlessly, "please do something to me, anything. I'd let you do anything to me if you keep your hand on me like this." 

"You - Thal's balls, you'll be the death of me," he says, pulling you back to his mouth. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him as close against your body as possible to feel him, trying to get a knee up onto the bed to feel against his pelvis to find where you can press into his hardening cock. 

More breathless kisses pass between you, a moan releasing from you as your teeth knock against his as he runs his tongue against yours and finally, finally - a true, genuine, spine shaking growl from him as you tongue gently over the split in his lip before biting him right on the wound. 

He pulls you off him again when he's run out of air, a stretch of want hanging between you he considers you with blood on his mouth. 

"Incorrigible," he says, at a loss at you. 

You smile prettily at him, knowing your mouth looks just like his. "Isn't it your job to do something about unruly officers under your command, General?" 

He sighs in exasperation, considering. You rub at his shoulders, the over-tightened muscle relaxing under your touch. He turns his head to kiss your hand as you massage his left arm, lightly pressing your fingers into his limb to wish relief into him. 

While he's deciding, you realize that maybe he had been correct and you should've stripped when he asked. You start unlacing and unbuttoning, meeting his eyes without speaking as you both stay quiet to listen to the sound of fabric rustling. 

He stares at you as you bare yourself to him, his tongue peeking out to lick his lips as you slide your shirt off your shoulders. The phrase "drinking in a sight" has always seemed nonsensical to you, but there's no other way to describe the way he looks at you, like a precious wine to be savored. And so he does, he does drink you in, the round of your nipples, the expanse of your torso, and the scars on your ribs, all on display for him. You're desperate for him, the ache of wanting wet between your thighs, and you don't have the breath in you to ever put this feeling into words. 

When he's chosen his course of action, he maneuvers you to stand in front of him, both of your hands fitting clumsily in the grasp of his hand. 

"I know you, Lieutenant, and you can be a reckless idiot at the best of times. I need you to swear that you will ask me to stop if I harm you." 

He lets go of your hands to hold onto your arm, squeezing into the flesh of it, trying to press soundness of mind back into you. You have to pull your eyes away from his hand, so large on you that it almost completely wraps around your bicep. 

You fight back the urge to roll your eyes because he needs you to be calm and honest now, so you bite your lip and bully yourself back into a semblance of control. You place your hand on top of his in reassurance, leaning forward to touch your foreheads together. 

"I swear on my loyalty to you, Flame General Raubahn Aldynn, that I will tell you if I think you will harm me in a way that will make you sad," you say. 

A muscle in his jaw jumps at your words, and you both know that they're the most honest ones you can give him. You both know it breaks his heart. You don't tell him that you're only like this for him, that he’s the only person you'd let break you apart into pieces with a smile on your face. You worry he'd never touch you again if he knew. 

You breathe in Raubahn’s smell, pressing a kiss into the braids in his hair as he regulates his breathing. There are so many things you don’t believe you can ever tell him, but you didn’t think you would ever come this far with him either. Who knows where you can take him next?

"Come here," he commands once he's regained control of himself. "Put your hands on my left leg and your body over to my right." 

You obey, because the moment before was so tender it's ruined your resolve for any misbehavior. You never want to misplace his trust in you, so you lean over his lap without a word. He adjusts the spread of his legs, stretching you over him. He pushes up at your core to balance you over him at the angle he needs you to be for him. 

He's got your body displayed for him. You were meant to be looked at, like this, by him and him alone. It’s enough that you want to put your head down and sob into his lap over how long you’ve waited for him to look at you like this, just your back and your ass on display for him. You're up on your toes, bracing on your elbows on his left leg, your back arched so your ass is the highest point of your body. 

He puts his palm on the round of your ass, his calloused fingers a delicious roughness against your skin. He runs his hand over you, never quite dipping in where you want him to, and it absolutely electrifies your skin until all your hair stands on end. He’s so gentle in his adoration of you, you want to sink your teeth into him because of how intolerable it feels. 

“Don’t act so starved and not take even the smallest bite, Raubahn,” you say. 

You push up on your elbows and hook an arm around his neck, kissing his shoulder because it’s as far as you can reach. Raubahn gazes down at you, and without any expression on his beautiful face, he strikes the soft, sensitive skin of your ass with all the strength he has. 

You shout hoarsely in surprise, the shockwave of pain fading to a bloom of pleasure, and an unbearable hot desire spiking from your groin through the rest of your body. You curl your toes, pushing your ass into his hand further, deepening the stretch in your calves. 

“Please,” you gasp, nonsensically. 

“What are you begging for, Lieutenant?” he says, smoothing his hand over the spot where he hit you. You wonder how your skin looks there, and if he likes the way it looks, if you’ll like the way you look in the mirror when he’s through with you. But it’s such a far away thought, you don’t care to think about it too long. You want more now. 

“Please, that,” you say, “do that again. I’ll do anything for you if you do that again.” 

He snorts at you, “Just until you remember how fun it is to be disobedient, no doubt.” 

His little gripe doesn’t hurt you, but you still whine miserably and drop your head back into your elbows on his knee, the sting of pain disappearing all too fast. 

“Raubahn, please, please,” you say, shameless in your need for him. "I want you to spank me again. I liked that so much. I can take it from you." 

"Incorrigible," he says again, with sharp intake of breath this time.

The next two quick but still harsh slaps make you buck up, straightening your arms to stretch into feeling, moaning into the pain. He tries to push you back down by the shoulder, and a different type of pained gasp escapes you. 

"Ah, wait, wait. Stop," you say. He takes his hand off you immediately, and you bite your lip as you gaze at him. "My shoulder is messed up," you explain, "I fumbled during a training exercise today. It's fine, I'm fine, but you probably won't like me wincing over it later." 

He frowns at you and you don't want to hear a lecture, not right now. 

"Look at how wet I am from how good you're making me feel," you say, "Just touch me, please." 

“You can reach the drawer from here, can’t you? Find something in there for me to use on you,” he says. You smile, knowing he's dropping the topic for you and not any desire to do so on his own. 

You lean forward eagerly, stretching towards the table next to the bed without getting off him. A little gasp escapes you at the friction of your pelvis across the fabric of his still-clothed thighs, and you kick up a leg in delight at the feeling. 

Raubahn's next slap surprises you just as your finger brushes against the drawer handle. You've stretched far enough to get to the table that you're completely balanced on his lap, and there's nowhere you can move away from him. You moan, crossing your legs and curving up your body. 

“I thought I taught you to move quicker than that,” he says. 

You huff, jumping forward slightly so you can grab the drawer handle and shift through it with your fingers. You pick up and toss aside random objects until you can find your stash of lubricant. 

“When I was just a private and all I could think about was yours, I remember,” you say. He groans at your poor joke, and you grin as you raise your bottle in triumph. 

He slaps your ass again, more lightly this time, and then again. It's not enough to pulse the pain-pleasure you're craving but it's just close enough that you sob from need of it. 

“You know,” you say, handing off the bottle to him and readjusting yourself to your earlier position, “Anytime you gave a speech motivating us poor green conscripts, I used to daydream about putting your cock in my mouth and crying around how big you were, how desperate I was to choke on you.” 

Raubahn growls deeply in his chest and it sends such a thrill through you that you almost come from the vibration of his voice in your body alone. He slaps your ass again, and this time it's exactly what you need from him. You breathe a prayer of thanks for whoever created his hand. He was made for you, the way he can cup your ass so well with his slaps is so perfect you can scarce believe it. You want him to hit you again. 

“Next time,” he says, in that voice that makes you so feverish with wanting that your wetness starts to drip down your thighs at the sound of him alone, “Next time, I need to remember to gag you.” 

You laugh, hysterical in a way that makes you feel like you might never stop. You can't wait. You want to see him try. He slaps your ass again, right where he had before and it makes you manic, it does, your laughter so wild it leaves you unable to breathe. 

You're still giggling as he opens your bottle of lubricant with his teeth, going breathless when he pours it onto your ass. Your shiver at the feeling of the cold liquid on you, breathing into a sigh as it cools the burning stings of his slaps. The liquid slides down the cleft of your ass, Raubahn parting you so it can slide down to your entrance. You moan at the tingling pleasure of it. Just like everything else he's done to you, it's just close enough that you can feel your orgasm perched within your pelvis but not enough that you can come from it alone. 

Raubahn presses his thumb into your ass, rubbing circles against your entrance, idly and far too slowly. You curl your toes again at the tiny electric pulses of pleasure you get from his calloused roughness against you, but the feeling is nothing in comparison to the shock of delight you get when he slides his forefinger into your hole. 

You gasp, twisting your hip to try to get him deeper into you, wanting him to press against a place that will make you weep the way you want to. 

“Stop squirming,” he says, “Hold still or I will take out my finger.” 

You whine, loudly and pathetically, but freeze at the thought of no longer having him inside you. For once, you're afraid to speak. 

He fucks you with his finger, slowly, slowly, sliding it in as far as he can, and then back out, taking time to make sure there's enough lubricant that you don't feel the slightest bit of pain, just a simple stretching of muscle while he works you open.

You hate it. You want to sit up and kick him into the bed so you can ride him to a quick orgasm rather than go at this maddening pace. But you can't move, your body absolutely still under his touch except for unconscious the quivers and trembles running through you. You gasp when he adds another finger, his thick, long digits filling you up and moving together in tandem to fuck your ass. 

He continues his excruciatingly slow exploration of you, and you press your forehead into his thigh, squeezing the muscled flesh of him with your hands. His smell, the musk of him, is so overwhelming. You can't reach his cock from this angle at all but you can see that he's half hard from touching you. It gives you a smug satisfaction, even as your moans turn into small desperate gasping sobs. 

“This is the quietest I've ever had you,” he says, and you're pleased to hear the graveling moan of his voice. 

You don't speak still, not knowing if he wants you to, but press a kiss into his leg. He lets out a noise in surprise, not a gasp, just a sound of consideration. His fingers find a rhythm within you, starting to work at the hidden orgasm you'd been longing to be touched. You can't stop yourself from breaking the spell of your stillness to stretch into his hand, pushing him deeper inside of you. 

“Had I known this was the best way to shut your mouth, perhaps I would've done this years ago,” he continues. You don't take bait, but smile into his lap as the feeling of his fingers, although still stupidly tender, work at the want and desire and absolute need for him inside you. He groans, and you smile, hoping that you can making him feel even a fraction of the want you feel for him. 

“Speak to me,” he says, and you shake your head in his lap. His fingers quicken their pace, and you're not sure if it's a conscious decision or instinctual irritation at you. Your sobbing moans start to match the rhythm of his faster thrusting inside you. 

Finally, finally, finally, he reaches a pace and pressure that touches you exactly how you've wanted for him to touch you. Tears well up in your eyes at the overwhelming feeling of it, and your control over your body loosens completely, your hips bucking up and pushing back into his hand to feel him as deep inside you as possible. 

“Please, please,” you moan, losing the game and the final thread of your sanity under his fingers. You always do but it's fine, because it's him. It's him, and you will always lose yourself to him. Your orgasm builds inside you, threatening to tip you over a precipice when you'd already thought you'd bottomed out in your desire of him.

“Raubahn, please. I don't want to come unless you tell me to,” you sob. 

He makes the most delicious, deep sound you've ever heard from him at your words. His thumb nail digs into the flesh of your ass as he uses it for purchase to piston his fingers inside you. You've never been touched like this, and you know that you'll never be able to be touched by anyone else but him again.

“Come for me, then. Show me what you sound like when you come,” he says, his fingers touching you exactly as you want to be touched.

You're ruined for him, you are, because you come immediately at his words. He listens to you carefully, but he always has. 

* * *

He's discovered a wash basin and a cloth, bringing them over to you full of clean, cool water. You'd turned boneless as soon as your orgasm passed through you and he grumbled at having to manhandle you off him into the bed. You lie on your stomach, kicking your legs back and forth in the air as you feel the exhausted echoes of pleasure still residing in your lower body. 

“Look at the state of you,” he grouses. 

He sits on the bed next to you. You want to pull him down alongside you to kiss him endlessly, but you know he needs to take care of you now, so you let him run the wetted cloth over your back. He's careful with your shoulder, worried over the extent of your injury but you roll your eyes at his gentleness. 

“I am but a poor, unsightly lieutenant with an insubordinate attitude and no desire to improve my behavior. I would've gotten someone to do this eventually, I'm happy to say it was you,” you smile prettily at him. 

“Not unsightly,” he disagrees, “And you could be a commander by now if you focused.” He carefully wipes down your back, cleaning off any sweat and excess lube still left on you. He barely glides the cloth over the curve of your ass, where you'd been able to twist just far enough to see the blooming redness on your cheeks. You're eager to see how the skin looks once you can find a mirror. 

“Mmm, no,” you say, “it doesn't roll off the tongue as well. Besides, I like to be commanded, so why would I get such an boring, unsuited title?”

You huff dramatically, raising yourself up on your arms to reach his mouth. You kiss him, not doing anything but fitting your mouths together to feel him close. 

You separate from him to blink at him, “Are you not going to say anything about how I implied I would let just anyone fuck me like this?” 

“You wouldn't,” he says, simply, “no one can fuck you the way I can.” 

“Ah, balls,” you say, “lost again.” You pull him down to the bed, not caring that it knocks the wash basin to the floor. 

**Author's Note:**

> Brainworm birthed by [celestial_txt](https://www.archiveofourown.org/users/celestial_txt/) and [sugarplumfairy](https://www.archiveofourown.org/users/sugarplumfairy/). anyway, he's so hot.


End file.
